


The Bastard King's Bloodthirsty Hound

by Dreamvisitor



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Assassin Tyrian Callows, Fluff, King Arthur Watts, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mild Blood and Gore, Nuts and Volts Week 2020, Sharing a Bed, Sort of medieval fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22712323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamvisitor/pseuds/Dreamvisitor
Summary: King Arthur Watts has no real claim to the throne, he is a bastard born from the past king's brief affair with a no good peasant. But gods help anyone who dares to challenge his claim for the throne, because his hound Tyrian Callows will assassinate anyone who dares to even say a word about it. Tyrian Callows has been sent out on a mission to retrieve one of the relics that belonged to House Watts a long time ago. He must rip it off the Iron King's hands and bring it back home, to send a message from his king to House Ironwood and offer sacrifices to the strange goddess he worships.
Relationships: Tyrian Callows/Arthur Watts
Kudos: 28
Collections: Nuts and Volts Week 2020





	The Bastard King's Bloodthirsty Hound

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Nuts and Volts Week 2020 prompt "Royalty AU". 
> 
> The only "royal" of the two is Watts, because I'm a sucker for royalty x their loyal assassin. He makes everyone call him King Watts instead of King Arthur to force people to acknowledge that he has the family last name despite being a bastard son. 
> 
> This is pretty much all of my ideas and headcanons for this type of nuts and volts AU, compiled in a short story set in said AU.

The stable boy just _ran_ as fast as he could when he saw Tyrian approaching with his horse. Didn’t even bother to hold his breath or pretend to be polite, he wanted nothing to do with whatever Tyrian was covered in. But that didn’t offend Tyrian at all, it actually made him laugh. Reminding all the people in the castle what he was capable of was always fun. He could leave his horse in the stables by himself. 

Once he left the horse, the servants that were cleaning the entrance to the castle stepped aside with their eyes wide open. Their expressions kept switching from horror to annoyance because of the blood and mud tracks he was leaving behind him. The guests he found in the corridors were either shocked or looked strangely curious, the latter must be people who had heard of him before.

When he got to the great hall’s doors, he could hear the sound of conversation and cups clinking on the other side. King Watts must be having another feast just to show off his wealth, receive compliments from the guests and hopefully keep the people happy enough to avoid a future revolt. He should have done something to announce his return properly, but he had no time for the ridiculous rules of courtesy the nobility loved so much. Instead, he opted for pushing the doors open with all of his strength to make one dramatic entrance.

The surprised gasps of all the nobles filled the room, and when they took a good look at Tyrian, the whispers began. Fair enough, they didn’t see a man drenched head to toe in blood and guts come into the hall unannounced every day. And the scent, oh, he knew the scent was _horrible_. The stench of blood and gore never bothered Tyrian, but he could see all the nobles reaching for handkerchiefs or anything else to cover their noses.

The only person in the room who didn’t even bat an eyelash was the only man present he actually cared about. It was the king, Arthur Watts, who seemed to be waiting eagerly for him.

He stopped in front of the dais and didn’t bother kneeling. King Watts would’ve cut the throat of anyone else who dared to disrespect him like that, but his hound was the only exception. Without further ado, Tyrian took out an ornate staff from under his cloak that was as dirty as he was.

Despite the blood on it, everyone in the room recognized the relic immediately. It used to belong to House Watts, but it was gifted to House Ironwood many years ago as a gesture to symbolize peace between the two. Tyrian held it carefully in both of his hands and presented it to his king.

"My lord, I brought back the relic." Tyrian announced. “Just as you wished.”

King Watts' eyes shined, and a big smile could be appreciated on his face. When his eyes went back from the relic to Tyrian, he raised an eyebrow. 

"That I can see, but I can also notice that it was not an easy task." He commented. "You stink."

Tyrian seemed to take that as a compliment, he grinned.

"The Iron King threw me into his arena to fight for the relic." Tyrian explained. "Had to make my way out once it was over, so I guess the possibility of you marrying the Iron King to form an alliance is cancelled." He said with a certain mockery in his voice.

"I suppose it is." King Watts said. He stifled a laugh as best as he could to keep appearances in front of his guests.

"I wish I could have ended his life, but that old fucking crow that's always by his side stopped me." Tyrian hissed. There was noticeable hatred in his words, that dusty old crow had humiliated him.

"You do not need to worry about that." He said. "Killing him would have caused more problems than needed. You sent them the message I wanted you to, excellent job."

Tyrian wasn’t so convinced about that, but he knew that complaining about it in the middle of the hall wouldn’t do anything right now. 

"Then if I have pleased my lord, my job is done." He bowed in a manner that belonged in a theatre performance rather than in a court.

"You may leave to rid yourself of…" He gestured to all of Tyrian's filthy body. "All of that. I will see you later so that you can report to me properly."

The assassin nodded and made his leave. Once the great hall's door was closed behind him, he could hear the cheers inside the hall for the return of the relic.

Feasts were fun sometimes, but he was too worked up after his mission to stay around a bunch of nobles and pretend he had any decency. Tyrian would never understand why the king tried to keep up appearances like that, he knew that Watts didn't love being surrounded by other nobles that much. He had heard the king complain enough about them when the two of them were alone. 

He'd let them have their fun in peace, he could have his own fun alone if the king was so busy entertaining guests.

* * *

Tyrian could make his way to the king's chambers even if he were completely blinded.

He could also perfectly hear the whispers of the kitchen servants that noticed him sneaking in. But as long as their whispers weren't about calling the king a bastard with no claim to the throne, or daring to address him as Arthur instead of King Watts, he had no reason to threaten them.

The rumors were usually the same old boring thing, that the king spread his legs for his bloodthirsty hound every night when he returned from his missions away from the castle. It was funny, how they’d started to call him _hound_ despite being born with a scorpion’s tail. When he wasn’t away, Tyrian was usually standing behind the king like a loyal dog and he followed his orders _most_ of the time. The fact that the king was unmarried and didn’t seem to have plans to marry anytime soon didn’t help to hush the rumors either.

Instead of knocking on the door, he let himself in silently.

Tyrian's hair was still slightly damp from the bath, cascading down his back in small curls that were caused by being braided most of the time. He had left all of his usual armor and attire for the poor servants to wash, and he was instead wearing a loose shirt that revealed most of his scarred chest and pants.

He scrapped the stone floor with the metallic tip of his scorpion tail, alerting King Watts of his presence. Tyrian had caught him right as he was finishing getting ready for bed, but he didn't seem alarmed or surprised when he turned back to face Tyrian.

"I thought you wanted a full report of my mission?" Tyrian said, while gently swishing his tail.

"I assumed you'd be tired, don't you think this is a much more comfortable place to have our talk?" He asked.

Tyrian giggled as he made his way to the king's bed and sat on the edge of it.

"You're very wise, my lord." Tyrian said with another of his slightly unsettling giggles. Now that he wasn’t in front of the court, the way he said _my lord_ sounded very possessive rather than respectful to those with a higher rank than him.

“I have to ask, how did you end up in Ironwood’s arena?” Watts said as he was removing his crown from his head. “I sent you on a _stealth_ mission, Tyrian.”

Tyrian rolled his eyes and plopped down on the soft pillows so that he was laying on his side, facing Watts.

“I may or may not have spotted the arena on my way to his vault.” He admitted, no shame in his voice or expression. “And perhaps I let the bird see me so that they’d throw me in.”

Watts sighed, took off all of his rings, and then finally laid down on his bed next to the scorpion. Tyrian liked him better this way, when he was stripped of all the symbols that made him look like a king, more _vulnerable_. Watts made himself comfortable and turned his head to look at Tyrian.

“It surprises me that he’s become so brutal with those arena fights that he left you drenched in gore.”

By the look on his face, Tyrian knew that Watts was very well aware that the amount of filth he had on earlier was all his own doing. It was his subtle way of asking Tyrian to tell a story he was very obviously excited to share. He loved that his king never seemed to be disgusted by his excessive violence and bloodthirst, it was one of the many reasons that made him want to stay by his side.

“Oh, that was just me adding more fun to it.” He confessed. He placed one hand over the king’s chest before continuing. “I’m sure that man wasn’t expecting me to slice my opponents from their mouths down to their crotches, but my blades are sharp and the Goddess demanded new sacrifices.”

Tyrian’s eyes were shining and his smile was wide as he talked about his eerie goddess and explained more of the gruesome details of his little adventure. But Watts saw all of the joy be replaced by anger when he got to a certain part of the story.

“And when I ripped out the heart of that guard and was about to get to the Iron King, that wretched bird stopped me.” He spat. His nails dug into Watts’ chest as he was mentioning said ‘bird’, the king grunted but didn’t shove his hand away.

“I see I’m not the only one with rivalries in that kingdom.” Watts laughed.

“Next time I’ll get him.” He swore. “He’s not royalty, so that means I can kill him, right?” He pleaded with the expression of a child asking for a sweet.

The king placed a hand gently on his cheek, which surprised the scorpion for a second before he melted into the touch. His anger slowly faded. It was always like this, gentleness was such a strange thing to him that every time Watts was like this to him, it took him a moment to believe it.

“You can, though I believe you’d have found a way to do it even if I told you no.”

Tyrian laughed softly and pulled the other man closer to him so that he could rest his chin on top of his head and slowly wrap his tail around one of his legs.

“You smell so much like lavender.” Watts noticed. “That is so unusual for you, but I like it.”

“Some of the fluids that the entrails spray on one leave a scent too strong to wash away with a simple bath.” He explained. “I didn’t wish to be kicked out of your chambers like the stray _dog_ people say I am.”

After a short silence in which they just laid there, holding each other and enjoying the moment, Tyrian spoke again.

“You wouldn’t do that, would you?” He whispered. “Kick me out if you ever married or formed an alliance with the Iron King or any of the others?”

Watts pulled his head away from the crook of Tyrian’s neck just so that he could look at him, one eyebrow raised.

“I would never marry that man even if he _begged_ me and forgave me after what you just stole from him.” He said offended. “He was always so annoying, even when we were children, always thinking he was better than the rest.” He huffed. “Whoever ends up marrying me for political reasons will have to deal with you, whether they like it or not.”

That seemed to please Tyrian, for now, and the smile slowly returned to his face. He took the king’s head between his hands and pulled him closer again to kiss him deeply.

“Good.”

It should have felt like a threat, he wanted it to, a threat that he would end him if he ever dared to throw him away. But instead, Tyrian sounded like he was just happy and relieved to be wanted and needed.

They spent the night together, sleeping in each other’s arms like they were the only people they needed in the world. No worries about royal duties or the next mission. Power and violence were great, but nights like these made their lives a little sweeter.


End file.
